Empy Threats
by Kittyfan12
Summary: "...every time [Karai] looked down at him, his eyes were glued to the same place, even as he struggled and fought for freedom: the purple mask tied around her father's right bicep." ONE-SHOT Set early in the 2k12 series.


This is a little one-shot I just wrote. It's based off of an infamous threat we often hear in the TMNT franchise, but is never carried out. Hope you enjoy.

disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. Just this plot/story idea

Rating: T for mentions of violence and over-all sickness of the situation

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The full moon shone brightly as it sat high in the midnight sky. A lone beacon from above as the lights from the city below chased away the stars, forcing them to flee to the shadow of the moon so that they might decorate the atmosphere of friendlier places than New York.

A tall, imposing building stood amongst the small, family owned businesses and apartment buildings, proudly displaying the symbol of those who reside within. This building seemed to be in a constant foreboding shadow, warding off anyone foolish enough to be curious about the building with the broken window corner and the happenings that go on beyond its transparent boundary.

Inside, the master of The Foot Clan sat on his throne in an arrogant, smug, and almost gleeful silence. His helmet, The Kuro Kabuto, sat on a pedestal to his left, revealing the scarred face of Oroku Saki to his single prisoner, who struggled against the chains binding his arms behind his back and the sharp bone claws of Bradford that were holding him in as much as a kneeling position as he could get. The grip so tight, it caused trickles of blood to spill down his arms.

Standing on the right side of her master, and father, was Karai, her expression-a mask of contempt directed at the prisoner, but there was an air of unease that surrounded her. She knew her father could sense it, and she knew he was ignoring it as well. If she had locked eyes with their captured enemy, there would have been no way she could have kept her underlying emotions towards what her father was about to do a secret. But she need not worry about that, because every time she looked down at him, his eyes were glued to the same place, even as he struggled and fought for freedom: the purple mask tied around her father's right bicep. A testament to the defeat of the former genius turtle whose body now lies in pieces at the bottom of the Hudson River.

The doors suddenly open, and Xever walks in with the largest grin on his face as he leads in a foot ninja carrying a tray. Everyone, including the lone Hamato, watched Xever kneel before his master before standing on the side of the walkway leading to the throne, allowing the foot ninja to ascend the stair and kneel at Oroku Saki's feet, holding the tray up to him.

Saki looked at the contents on the tray and grinned as he picked up a spoon, the handle of which was wrapped with the orange fabric that had belonged to the youngest turtle before gravity had its way with him. Of course, that had only been after Bradford had kicked him over the edge of the building. As his fingers brushed over the cloth, Saki spared a passing though about what the scientists, who had found the corpse, could be doing with it right now. But the thought was gone as soon as it had come.

A feral growl erupted from below, and the revenge driven ninja master smiled as he finally addressed his captive, "I hope you enjoy your last moments with what remains of your final son, Hamato Yoshi. For tonight, I dine on turtle soup".

A harsh, broken, desperate yell ripped itself from the throat of the rodent, and Saki took much pleasure in it as he lowered the spoon to the bowl wrapped in the blue mask of the eldest turtle. A grave marker of sorts. With the casual demeanor and etiquette of someone at the most formal of dinner parties, Saki ate the terrapin soup in front of his most hated enemy. The only sound in the room-the sobs of the rat- a symphony to accompany a delicious and most deserved meal, and he relished the warmth that spread throughout him as he consumed every drop.

Once finished with the final son, Oroku Saki put down the spoon and picked up the red mask that had once belonged to the most temperamental turtle, whose ashes had long since been mixed into the fuel of Xever's motorcycle. Saki wiped the corners of his mouth clean with the cloth before placing it back on the tray and dismissing the faceless foot ninja.

He looked down at the broken shell of the man he used to call brother.

Hamato Yoshi, head bowed, wept for his too young sons, and for himself. Not since the passing of his wife and daughter, had he wished for death as much as he did now.

Helmet back on, Shedder's deed voice rang through the room, "Take him to his cell".

With a malicious grin at the entire spectacle, Bradford picked the rat up by his neck and walked out of the room.

Karai watched, and though she had been uneasy about her father…eating the turtle she had found herself intrigued by, watching the suffering of her mother's murderer more than made up for it.

Yoshi barely felt the impact as he was tossed into the cold cell, arms still chained behind his back. Had they been unbound, he would have been hugging what was left of himself in a feeble attempt at comfort. Again, Saki had taken his family from him. Again, he was left with no reason to live. But it seemed that luck was on his side this time. He looked down at the discolored stubs that were left of his legs. Given the rate the infection was taking hold, he wouldn't have long now. No, not long. Then, he would join his sons, his wife, and his daughter.

END


End file.
